


From Dusk till Dawn

by MomentsAway



Category: Being Human (US/Canada), Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Crack Crossover, Crossover, Dean may be a little OOC, John Winchester's A+ parenting/Men Must Be Manly at All Times, M/M, Some angsty, overuse of the term "blood bag", there are too many ways to spell 'cemetary', unhealthy thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-24 20:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20711798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MomentsAway/pseuds/MomentsAway
Summary: “Ok, so lemme get this straight; you want me to drive to some random ass cemetery in Boston, find your random ass vampire friend and...keep him company while he mourns his dead wife and kid?”Or: That time Dean played babysitter to a vampire.





	From Dusk till Dawn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OzodienDeElo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzodienDeElo/gifts).

> This is a birthday fic I wrote for my friend, [OzodienDeElo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzodienDeElo). We talked about what would happen if these two met, and, well, I took it from there :)
> 
> I have taken <strike>some</strike> A LOT liberties with rules/lore/everything for both of these universes, so please keep that in mind before you freak out in the comments :-P
> 
> Also, many hugs and squishes to my beta, BeefNubbins69. 
> 
> My hands were the last ones to touch this :)

“Come on, Dean. Ya know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. He’s a good guy, I swear.”

Dean rolls his eyes and sighs loudly into the receiver of his phone. He leans back against the cool leather of the Impala and wishes, not for the first time, that he’d ignored Benny’s call tonight.

“Ok, so lemme get this straight; you want me to drive to some random ass cemetery in Boston, find your random ass vampire friend and...keep him company while he mourns his dead wife and kid?” 

Benny chuckles and Dean rolls his eyes again.

“When ya put it that way, it does sound strange. But you’d be doing a good thing, brother. Aidan has a rough time staying clean when this time of year rolls around.”

“Do I look like Vampires Anonymous to you? Why can’t you do it?” Dean picks at a stray thread coming from the steering wheel and reminds himself to get it fixed next time he’s at Bobby’s.

“Ah, well. I’m out of town, ya see. Got a case, as you call it, here in Louisiana,” Benny draws the word out, making it sound like  _ law-zee-anna _ . “ You know how I feel about nests in my town. Besides, you’re done in Cambridge, right? Boston’s just a stone's throw away.”

Dean smiles and decides not to remind Benny that the whole of Louisiana is not ‘his town.’ Regardless of Sam’s doubt, Dean trusts Benny completely and knows he is out there fighting the good fight, even against his own kind.

“Fine. I’ll go babysit this dude for a couple of hours. But you owe me, man.”

“I owe you for much more than this, but let’s add it to the list,” Benny says seriously.

Before this conversation veers off into chick flick territory, Dean gets the name of the cemetery he needs to go to and is reminded to bring a cooler of blood bags. Benny directs him to a local blood bank outside the city proper and tells him all he needs to do is drop Benny’s name, and the blood will be given to him with no hassle.

He packs a smaller cooler with a six-pack of beer and heads out, GPS guiding him towards Fairview Cemetery in Hyde Park.

Benny told him that Aidan goes to ground around sunrise so Dean would need to stay with him until then and make sure ‘he’s ok.’ That part of the conversation had been strained. Dean felt bad, but if this guy got all fangy, Dean would have no problem chopping his head off. Benny had huffed and insisted it wouldn't get that bad.

They didn’t talk about where they would stand if things did get that bad. 

**.oOo.**

The rumble of the Impala is loud in the quiet cemetery as its tires crunch over gravel and dirt. The further back he gets, the harder it is to fit the car, and eventually, he has to park her and go the rest of the way on foot.

He slings his cooler over his shoulder and carries the plastic one with the blood in it. His flashlight lights the way and he keeps his eyes peeled for the Row 79 marker. Benny said that’s where Aidan should be.

It’s a cool fall night and Dean wishes he’d brought more than his flannel with him, but figures he’ll tough it out until sun up, then hunker down in some motel for a few hours of shut-eye in a warm motel bed, hopefully with Magic Fingers.

He walks for another half an hour, the gravestones around him getting steadily more decrepit and weather-worn. Even with the beam from his flashlight on them, he can barely make out names and dates. The grass in this part of the cemetery is long and unkempt, sometimes towering over what ruins remain of a crumbling headstone. There are no flowers decorating these graves. He assumes because anyone who knew these people have probably died by now. 

He can’t help but listen for signs of anything supernatural, but all he hears are crickets and the occasional owl. It’s the most peaceful cemetery he’s been in in...well, ever.

Finally, after finding the row marker, he sees a figure sitting on a low bench. He pauses as he gets closer, squinting to see better in the darkness.

The figure raises its head and Dean swears the guy is sniffing the air. He can tell he’s being watched closely as he starts heading towards the bench.

“Aidan Waite?” Dean calls, wincing when his deep voice breaks the sacred graveyard silence.

The figure straightens but remains seated, clearly not having sensed Dean as a threat. “Yes?”

Dean stops in front of him and offers Aidan his best everything-is-ok smile. “Benny sent me. To, um,” he trails off, waving his flashlight around as if in explanation.

Dark eyes regard him, looking him up and down before settling on the cooler in his hand.

“Benny Lafitte? He sent you to what, kill me?” Aidan is still sitting, but Dean can feel the menace rolling off him in waves.

“No, man! I’m not here to kill you!” 

“What other reason would Benny have for sending a hunter here?”

“To, uh, be with you? Like, because of your family?” He supplies with the typical Dean Winchester eloquence.

Aidan is quiet for a moment, still looking up at Dean. He relaxes slightly and scoots over on the bench, silently inviting Dean to sit.

Dean sets both coolers down and shuts his flashlight off. There are ancient looking street lamps scattered throughout the cemetery, and while they add more to the ambiance than actually helping to light the paths, they are enough to see by.

“To be with me? I’m touched that Benny remembers my type,” Aidan smirks at Dean then chuckles when Dean’s eyes widen and he starts spluttering. “Calm down, hunter. Is there blood in one of those?” He points at the coolers.

Dean is thankful for the relative darkness because he can feel a red flush creep up his neck. He nudges the cooler with the blood closer to Aidan and gets a beer out of the other one. 

“I’m Dean, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Dean. Thanks for… being with me,” Aidan gives Dean a small teasing smile which Dean ignores. He settles onto the bench more comfortably.

They sit quietly for a while. Dean drinks two beers quickly, trying to warm himself up, while Aidan nurses one of the blood bags. Dean can tell he’s trying to be discreet about it, turning his body away from Dean and trying to muffle any noise the bag makes, and he appreciates the effort.

As Dean is popping the tab on his third beer Aidan sets his blood bag down in the grass, half drained. Dean arches an eyebrow at him.

“I’ve gotten better at handling the grief since I last saw Benny,” Aidan offers. 

Dean nods and takes a long swig of his beer. He feels Aidan's eyes on him and manages not to blush again. 

"Benny knew me when sadness resulted in a killing spree. He cleaned up a lot of messes for me when Bishop refused," Aidan glances at Dean before looking away. “He stayed with me while I… tried to forget the pain in the only way I knew how.”

“How the hell did you guys keep the deaths a secret? Any hunter worth his salt woulda been here as soon as the bodies started dropping,” Dean says.

Aidan smiles and Dean tries not to stare too hard. “We have a deal with hunters. They don’t come here and we police our own kind.”

Dean’s mouth drops open. There is so much to unpack in that statement. His mind reels off too many questions for his mouth to keep up with (Do other hunters know about this deal? Did Benny know? Did Dad? What does he mean ‘police their own kind?’) and he ends up just gaping instead. 

Aidan raises his chin and sniffs, his dark eyebrows furrowed. “You are a hunter, right? You smell like one, but…,” he gestures vaguely at Dean.

“Yeah, I’m a hunter,” Dean sits up straighter, pride in the lines of his body. “I’ve never heard of monsters making arrangements with humans before.”

“Monsters?”

Dean bites his lip and rubs at the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean  _ you _ . Just- I meant, um,” he shrugs in defeat. “Dude, you gotta admit it’s weird and unheard of, obviously.”

Aidan watches Dean, his eyes tracking all of Dean’s hand movements before settling on his lips. He doesn’t reply verbally, but he picks up his bag of blood and finishes it in greedy, loud swallows. He doesn’t break eye contact with Dean.

Dean keeps his face neutral and his eyes locked on Aidan. He tells himself it’s to keep an eye out in case Aidan makes any attempts at an attack. He tells himself it has nothing to do with the teasing glint in the dark eyes staring at him.

The sounds of the cemetery pick up again as they sit in silence. Dean looks around, subconsciously scanning the area for any signs of life. Or rather, not-life. He catches Aidan staring at him a few times and each time he meets the other's eyes, they do not waiver. 

Over the span of the next hour or so, he comes to terms with the fact that he is being flirted with. 

By a vampire. 

By a hot, guy vampire.

Lots to unpack there, too. 

He shifts around on the bench and fidgets (in a manly way, thank you very much,) trying to decide if he’s ok with this flirting. He’s a formidable fighter and could hold his own if Aidan made any uninvited passes.

Being bisexual is one thing. Being out and bisexual is another. Fooling around with a male vampire is so far outside of anything he has ever done or even considered. And yet…

There’s Cas. A hot, guy angel. And while they haven’t fooled around because Dean is a closet case afraid of pissing off God if he defiles a heavenly being, the thought has definitely crossed his mind.

He clears his throat then says, “What did you mean I smell like a hunter?”

“You smell like warding and sigils,” Aidan inhales and his eyes droop half closed. “You smell like old blood, but not human blood.” He leans closer to Dean and inhales again, his lips parted as if he can taste the smell. “Stale beer, shitty take out, cheap perfume, sex, gun powder. You smell like a traveler.”

Dean doesn’t back away when Aidan gets close. He actually feels himself start to lean forward as well, their knees bumping before resting against each other.

“That’s a neat trick you can do,” he whispers. 

Aidan winks and sits back. He leaves their knees touching. “Yeah, being able to smell what someone had for breakfast three days ago is a real crowd pleaser.”

Dean laughs and when Aidan sees him throw his head back, he grins as well.

“Besides, Benny wouldn’t have sent anyone who couldn’t put me down if need be and aside from another vampire, a hunter is the only thing capable enough.” Aidan’s smile fades.

“It was really that bad, huh?” Dean scoots closer, pressing his thigh against the solid muscle of Aidan’s.

“It was really that bad. For years. I couldn’t face the rage and sorrow that remembering them brought me. So,” Aidan looks at Dean, trying to read his reaction. “I let the bloodlust take over. I drank until I was drunk from it, then kept going. Hundreds died before Benny caught up to me and locked me up. Then he kept coming back every year, even after all the terrible things I said to him. Even after I tried to kill him. ”

Dean frowns as he imagines Aidan’s face contorting into a vampiric mask of rage and violence. He looks the other man over and even sitting down, he can tell Aidan is about his size; tall and discreetly muscled. He glances at his cooler, knowing there are three syringes full of dead man’s blood in it, just in case.

The whole conversation is getting a little too emotional for Dean, Mr. Ignore, Deny, Deflect himself. He can’t condone what Aidan did, but he knows the rage that comes with loss that you could have prevented. He knows what it’s like to get so overtaken with anger that only hitting things, feeling bones break beneath your knuckles, and staining your skin with someone else’s blood can soothe. He can sympathize, to an extent, anyway.

“So, Benny’s into the whole whips and chains thing?” Dean quirks his lips in what he hopes is a flirty grin.

Aidan’s eyes widen before he grins back. Dean can see the sharp tip of a fang in his smile. “The chains were the only perk of being locked up. Stopped being punishment after a while.”

They smirk at each other, Dean trying to hold Aidan’s gaze and finally failing as that red flush heats his skin again.

Aidan tilts his head and leans closer to Dean, their arms brushing. “You know, I can smell when you blush too.”

“What?”

“Your blood rises to the surface of your skin and I can smell it,” he pauses and his eyes roam over Dean’s face. “I can see it, too, even in this light.”

Dean licks his lips and feels his face heat more when Aidan drops his eyes to watch the movement. 

“Yeah, like that. I can see it on your neck and cheeks,” Aidan says.

Dean shifts on the bench, suddenly aware of everywhere they are touching; aware of how his whole body is reacting to the way Aidan is looking at him. He rubs at his neck again and looks anywhere but at Aidan. 

“Did you know blood smells different depending on a person’s mood?” Aidan turns to face Dean better, settling his hand on Dean’s thigh. He smiles at Dean’s sharp intake of breath. “Fear makes the blood smell kind of rancid, in my opinion. I hear other vampires talk about how fear makes it better, but it’s not to my tastes.”

Dean stares at the pale hand resting on his thigh. He can hear his own heartbeat in his ears and he licks his lips again, trying to make the words jumbled behind his teeth into coherent sentences. He tries to tell Aidan to back off, that he doesn’t like...vampires. That he isn’t insanely turned on by the way Aidan is looking at him.

When Dean finally manages to speak, his voice is deep and raspy. “What kind of blood do you like?”

Aidan tilts his head as he thinks. “I like blood after a person has been aroused. It gives the blood an almost chocolate aftertaste.” He lowers his gaze to Dean’s neck. He’s panting softly and his grip on Dean’s thigh tightens slightly.

“What, um. What does my blood smell like?” Dean ignores the part of his brain warning him that he is playing with fire and instead focuses on the louder, more insistent part that is screaming for him to lean in and bare his neck.

“Oh, Dean,” Aidan’s voice is a low whisper full of reverence and dripping with desire. He moves close enough that his nose brushes the sensitive skin under Dean’s ear. Your blood smells incredible. Like honey and heat,” he trails off and huffs a breath against Dean’s skin.

Neither of them move, both sitting still and breathing the other in. Dean puts his hand on Aidan’s and moves it further up his thigh, spreading his legs slightly. He lets his eyes fall shut as his head falls back. He can still hear how loud and fast his heart is beating, but when Aidan suddenly runs his tongue in a soft, wet line up Dean’s throat, the only thing Dean can hear is his own breathy whimper in the otherwise quiet graveyard.

On the drive to his motel later, he’ll have to think about what kind of man makes those kinds of noises. And what kind of man begs a vampire to drink his blood. And what kind of man likes it enough to almost orgasm from that alone. He’ll mentally berate himself, his mind’s voice eerily reminiscent of John Winchester’s stern reprimands about manhood.

He’ll save worrying about the feeling of having cheated on Cas for the drive back to the bunker. There’s too much there to deal with on a good day, so why not save it for a lonely road trip? Turns out John’s voice lives in Dean’s head even in the sanctuary of the soft leather seats of the Impala.

For now, he lets Aidan continue to lick and suckle at his throat. He lets his own hands wander into Aidan’s hair, tugging him gently closer. 

For now, he will pretend he didn't make the deep groan of pleasure when Aidan finally breaks the skin and groans in kind as Dean’s blood flows into his mouth.

There are infinite moments when Dean has no concept of anything other than the tender sucking, licking, and kissing at his neck. He doesn’t realize Aidan has lifted them up and moved them, leaning Dean against a nearby tree. He feels hands running up and down his sides, slipping inside his flannel, under his t-shirt and cooling the overheated skin of his stomach and ribs with icy touches. He pushes his thigh between Aidan’s and they both grind on each other in slow, rolling hip undulations.

Unhurried, Aidan finally lifts his head and Dean thinks to mention the black eyes gleaming at him, but the sight of his own blood staining Aidan’s lips has him transfixed. Dean rests his head against rough tree bark, using the slight pain to gather himself. He stares and stares at the red glistening on Aidan’s lower lip with obscene curiosity.

“No,” he says when Aidan moves to step away. He surprises both of them when he grabs a cool hand and brings him closer, meeting Aidan half way for their lips to meet. Dean licks at his own blood before turning his full attention to kissing the other man in earnest. 

More time slips away as they explore each other’s mouths. They play with gentle nips and teasing licks for a while before settling into just breathing each other’s breath. Dean will never admit to holding hands with anyone, let alone a vampire dude, but when Aidan squeezes his fingers, he returns the squeeze. Their hips have stilled but they still lean heavily against each other, both hard, and neither moving to do anything about it.

Their lips touch as Aidan says, “It’s getting time for me to go to ground.” His voice is a broken croak and it sends shivers down Dean’s spine.

They still don't untangle from each other, kissing more and letting the wind carry their sighs and moans into the silence around them.

Dean can see the sky turning violet at the edges and he finally relents, pushing against Aidan when he tries to chase after Dean’s retreating lips.

“Sun,” Dean clears his throat, trying to sound less like a breathless damsel and more like himself. “The sun’s coming, you gotta go.”

Aidan glances around and frowns at the lightening skyline. He pulls away and holds out a hand to steady Dean when he stumbles slightly away from the tree.

They stare at each other, both avoiding glancing lower than the belt. Their smiles are oddly shy and Dean catches Aidan sniffing his hands more than once.

Aidan helps Dean put the empty beer cans back in his cooler. Their fingers touch and Dean doesn’t flinch away. 

Aidan grins down at the cooler still full of bags of blood before looking up at Dean.

“So. Same time, same place next year?” Aidan goes for a confident smirk, but Dean can see the uncertainty behind it.

“Dude, like I told Benny, I’m not a babysitter,” he pauses to take in Aidan’s flush of embarrassment, then he grins. “Next year, we are getting a hotel room or something. That tree fucked up my shirt.” He pulls Aidan’s cooler over his shoulder and grabs the other one. 

Aidan grins at him and nods, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Yeah, next year I’ll get you a hotel.”

Dean nods back and gives an awkward two finger salute as he turns and heads back to his car.

His cell phone vibrates as soon as he’s settled into the driver’s seat. He smiles wide when he sees Benny’s text message:

_ Sorry for asking you to do this, brother. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I owe you big time! _

Dean bites his lip on a grin and starts planning how Benny could contribute to his and Aidan’s hotel costs next year.

-End-

**Author's Note:**

> Oz, I know you are too cool for school and whatnot so you won't read this on your actual birthday, but, I hope that you have a wonderful day! Love you mucho! <3


End file.
